The Fraggle 500
by Erin T. Aardvark
Summary: The Annual Fraggle 500 vegetable car race arrives at Fraggle Rock
1. The Announcement

_AUTHOR'S NOTE: I got this idea from (believe it or not) the McDonald's Fraggle Rock Happy Meal toys from 1988. If you're not familiar with these, look them up. I might use elements from the animated version of "Fraggle Rock," as I think I can see this fitting that version more than the live action version (yes, I like the animated version, it's not all *that* bad). The use of songs will also be included in this story, and the one that appears here in chapter 1 is from the "Fraggle Rock" episode "Wembley and the Great Race." All characters in this story belong to Jim Henson (my sister will be proud of me! This is the first time I'm writing a story that has absolutely none of my own characters in it!)_

* * *

The Fraggle Horn sounded. Every last Fraggle in the Rock gathered in the Great Hall for the news. The World's Oldest Fraggle was standing in his regular place, waiting for everyone to arrive. Once everyone was there, the World's Oldest Fraggle got everyone's attention.

"Fellow Fraggles," he said, "as you all know, it is almost time for one of our yearly events. It's time for . . . . the annual Fraggle Five Hundred!"

Almost every single Fraggle in the rock cheered happily at the news. The Fraggle 500 was one of the most exciting races held in Fraggle Rock. It was the equivalent of a Silly Creature soap box derby, or a go-cart race. The racers built cars out of vegetables from the Gorgs' garden, and raced along a track. Every Fraggle in the rock loved it, whether they were participating in the race, or just watching it from the sidelines. The only Fraggle who wasn't looking forward to the event was Boober.

"Oh no, not again!" he moaned. "I hate the Fraggle Five Hundred!"

"Why do you hate it, Boober?" Wembley asked. "It's so exciting, watching the cars go by _Vroooom!_ "

"It's also _dangerous_!" Boober shouted. "You have to go to the Gorgs' garden to get the vegetables to build your cars, and then you have Fraggles driving them at high speeds, taking hairpin turns . . . . don't you realize that going that fast could result in severe damage? Not to mention whiplash!"

"Oh, come on, Boober," Gobo said. "You don't _have_ to enter, you know."

"I know, but I still worry about it," Boober said.

Gobo sighed and rolled his eyes, and then he ran toward the sign-up area. Wembley followed him.

"You're the best racer in the Fraggle Five Hundred, Gobo!" he shouted. "How many times have you won so far?"

"Three years in a row," Gobo said, proudly.

"What kind of car are you going to race this year?"

"Let's see . . . ." Gobo said, thoughtfully. "I drove a rutabaga last year, didn't I? I'm not sure what I'm going to drive this year."

"Well, I'm gonna drive a radish this year!" Red shouted, jumping in line. "I _love_ the Fraggle Five Hundred! I've won it twice already!"

"I'm going to make my car out of an eggplant again," Mokey said. "I find that eggplants fit my needs quite nicely."

"Eggplants also don't go very fast, Mokey," Red said. "You always come in second to last. Don't you ever want to win the Fraggle Five Hundred?"

"Oh no, Red!" Mokey shouted. "I enjoy watching the race from behind. It's more exciting that way."

"Whatever you say, Mokey," Red said, giving her best friend a strange look.

"Gee, I wish I could enter the Fraggle Five Hundred," Wembley sighed. "But I can't, because everybody says I'm too young."

"Well, Wembley," Gobo said, "you know this year is actually _very_ special."

"It is?" Wembley asked.

"Yeah!" Gobo shouted. "You know how every year you always say you wish you could enter the Fraggle Five Hundred, and every year everyone tells you you're too young to enter?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, this year, you're now finally old enough to enter the Fraggle Five Hundred!"

"Really?"

"Oh _no_ ," Boober groaned. "Gobo, you _can't_ really mean that!"

"It's true, Boober," Red said. "Wembley meets the age requirement this year."

"Oh, our little Wembley is really growing up," Mokey sighed.

"Oh boy!" Wembley shouted, and he began jumping up and down, excitedly. "I finally get to enter the Fraggle Five Hundred! Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy!"

"So what are you going to make your car out of, Wembley?" Red asked.

"Oh gosh," Wembley said. "I don't know. Maybe a turnip. Or maybe a zucchini. Or maybe a beet, or maybe, or maybe . . . ."

Suddenly, steam flew out of Wembley's ears (complete with train whistle sound effect). His body stiffened, he let out a scream, and then fainted. The other Fraggles were used to this. Thankfully, the bout of unconsciousness didn't last long.

"I knew he was going to have a wembling fit over this," Gobo sighed, as he helped his best friend to his feet.

"Gee, I don't know _what_ I should make my car out of," Wembley said.

"Don't worry about it, Wembley," Gobo said. "I'll help you."

"Really, Gobo?" Wembley asked. "But don't you have your own car to build for the race?"

"Yeah, but there's nothing in the rules that say you can't help out a buddy," Gobo said. "This is the very first time you're going to race in the Fraggle Five Hundred, Wembley, and I want to make sure you have an unforgettable time!"

"Gee, that's real nice of you, Gobo."

"Hey, you know I'd do anything for my best friend!"

 _Gobo: Pick any song you please_

 _Click we're in harmony_

 _Stick to me and you'll see_

 _What a kick it is to be_

 _Both: Friends, friends, friends_

 _'Til the end_

 _Wembley: You travel where you will_

 _I'll tag along and we'll_

 _See most of everywhere_

 _Everyone will know that we're_

 _Both: Friends, Friends, Friends_

 _'Til the end_

 _Sometimes when we feel a little bored_

 _We play a little game but we don't keep score_

 _Friendship is its own reward_

 _Fun just to play the game_

 _Win lose it's all the same_

 _Gobo: Who cares who really comes in first?_

 _Wembley: Let's spell it out!_

 _F_

 _Gobo: Someone asks of me_

 _Wembley: R_

 _Gobo: You and me a team_

 _Wembley: I_

 _Gobo: Say we'll always be_

 _Both: Friends 'til the_

 _E-N-D_

 _Friends, friends, friends_

 _'Til the end_

 _'Til the end_

 _'Til the end_

 _'Til the end_

Gobo and Wembley laughed, and then they both signed up for the race. Once both their names were on the list, Marlon Fraggle approached it.

"Little Wembley, you're not _really_ signing up for the Fraggle Five Hundred, are you?" he asked, incredulously. "It's _much_ too dangerous for a little Fraggle like you! You're _much_ too young!"

"Gobo said I was old enough this year," Wembley said.

"Oh?" Marlon asked. Then he did some mental calculations. "Hmmm . . . . hmmm . . . . uh huh. Yes, I suppose you are old enough. I forgot."

"You gonna sign up again this year, Marlon?" Gobo asked.

"Of course I am!" Marlon shouted. "And I'm going to come in first this year, and beat the hair off your baloobious, too, Gobo!"

"Now, Marlon," Mokey said, "it's good to be confident, but you don't want to be _too_ confident."

"Especially since you come in last every year," Red said. "Remember last year?"

"Yeah," Gobo said. "He made his car out of a head of lettuce, and as soon as he picked up enough speed, the leaves began flying off of it until there was nothing left."

"Or the year before that when he made his car out of a pea pod," Mokey said. "He went so fast, the pod opened, and he went off course after running over the peas when they fell out."

"Or the year before that when he made his car out of a potato," Red said. "It was so heavy, he crashed it into the wall the minute he took the first turn, because he took it too fast."

"Or the year before that when he made his car out of a parsnip," Wembley said. "It was so long, he didn't have enough room to make the first turn."

"Or the year before that when he made his car out of an onion," Boober said. "There wasn't a dry eye in the rock after _that_ race!"

"Yeah, it took nearly the entire year to air out the Great Hall," Red said.

"Or the year before that when he made his car out of a broccoli stem, and . . . ." Wembley started.

"I GET THE POINT!" Marlon shouted at the top of his lungs. "Just wait until this year! I'll show all you Fraggles!"

"Aww, it's okay, Marlon," Gobo said, patting the squinty-eyed Fraggle on the shoulder. "We're just teasing you."

"Besides, it's not as if your race car goes to waste," Boober said. "The potato car made for some delicious mashed potatoes. I have to say, there _is_ one thing I _do_ love about the Fraggle Five Hundred."

"What's that, Boober?" Mokey asked.

"I get to make the best victory casserole out of what you guys don't use to build your cars," Boober said. "And, I have plenty of ingredients left over for other recipes after the race is over."

"Well, come on, everybody," Gobo said. "Let's head up to the Gorgs' garden and pick out our vegetables to build for our cars, eh?"

The Fraggles that were entered in the race cheered, and followed Gobo to the Gorgs' garden. Marlon grumbled as he followed.

"I'll show them," he said. "I'll go and win the Fraggle Five Hundred! Just wait and see!"


	2. Picking Vegetables

When the Fraggles reached the Gorgs' garden, everyone split up to look for good vegetables to choose for their vehicles. So far, only Gobo and Wembley were undecided about what kind of vegetable to choose from. There were only two rules in choosing vegetables for a Fraggle race car. The first rule was that no two Fraggles could have the same vegetable car (because Boober loved variety in his victory casserole), and the second rule a Fraggle was not allowed to use an onion as a race car (this rule was made after Marlon built his racer out of one).

"I still don't know what vegetable I should make my car out of, Gobo," Wembley said, looking around as he saw the other Fraggles pick their vegetables for the race.

"Well, eggplant, radish, turnip, parsnip, rutabaga, zucchini, and beet are out," Gobo said, observing the other Fraggles. "Hmmm. Maybe a bell pepper would make a good race car."

"Yeah, and it would go great in Boober's victory casserole!" Wembley shouted.

Gobo walked over to a plant filled with big, green bell peppers. He reached up and was about to pull one off, when the plant suddenly shook, and peppers fell to the ground. Then Marlon came sliding down the plant's stem.

"Sorry, Gobo," he said, "but I got it first."

"Oh," Gobo said. "Well, that's okay, Marlon. We'll keep looking, eh?"

Marlon let out a small laugh, and then ran off with his pepper. Gobo and Wembley continued to search the garden. Finally, Gobo saw something that struck his fancy.

"I know!" he shouted. "I'll make my race car out of a carrot! Come on, Wembley, help me pull this thing!"

"Okay!" Wembley shouted, and he and Gobo grabbed the green stem, and pulled as hard as they could until they managed to dislodge the orange root.

"Now all we have to do is find you a good racer," Gobo said.

"How about a pumpkin?" Wembley suggested.

"I don't think so," Gobo said. "Uncle Traveling Matt told me about the one year he tried racing a pumpkin in the Fraggle Five Hundred once. He said was too heavy and he wound up tipping it over. You know what he ended up with?"

"Oh no. Don't tell me, Gobo. Don't tell me he ended up with . . . ."

"Squash."

" _Ugh!_ "

Wembley cringed at the bad joke, and he and Gobo continued looking for a suitable vegetable for Wembley's race car. Unfortunately, Wembley just couldn't seem to pick the right vegetable for his car. Nothing he found seemed to suit him. Gobo sighed.

"You've gotten yourself into a pickle over this," he said. "Come on, Wembley, you've got to decide already!"

"I know, Gobo," Wembley said. "But you know making decisions is hard for me!"

"Well, you'd better decide soon before . . . ."

Suddenly, the door to the Gorgs' castle opened, and out came Junior Gorg, carrying a jar of cucumbers soaking in some kind of liquid. Quickly, Gobo grabbed his carrot, and he and Wembley darted toward Fraggle Rock before they could be spotted.

"So much for making pickles," Junior said, opening his jar and dumping the contents on the ground. "I wasted several perfectly good cucumbers, too."

And with that, Junior went back into the house. Immediately, Wembley ran toward the pile. Gobo followed him.

"Look at the size of these pickles!" Wembley shouted. "They're gigantic!"

"You try balancing one of these on your nose, and you'll be flatter than a radish pancake," Gobo said. Then he grimaced, and pinched his nose shut. "Whoo! That Gorg really soaked 'em in some _really_ smelly stuff, eh?"

"You know what, Gobo? I think _this_ is what I'm going to use for my car!"

"I don't know, Wembley. The World's Oldest Fraggle might not let you do it, considering the smell."

"We could always wash it before we take it to the Great Hall."

"Yeah, that's true. We have to wash all of the vegetables anyway. Okay, Wembley. Let's go."

Wembley picked up the pickle, and walked it over to the Fraggle hole.

"Hey, Gobo?" he asked.

"What, Wembley?" Gobo asked.

"I guess I'll really be in a pretty pickle in this race, huh?" Wembley said, and then he laughed.

"Yeah, right," Gobo said, rolling his eyes at Wembley's bad joke.

Gobo and Wembley caught up with the other Fraggles at a small stream where they were washing their vegetables. Marlon wasn't around.

"Where's Marlon?" Gobo asked.

"He finished washing his pepper already," Red said.

"So what do we do after we wash the vegetables?" Wembley asked.

"We build cars out of them," Mokey said. "The first thing you do is you cut open your vegetable, and hollow it out."

"And if your vegetable has seeds in it, it'll be a bit of a messy process," Red said. "This is why I usually choose a root vegetable for my car."

"How do you know when to stop hollowing it?" Wembley asked. "I've never hollowed one out before. I might not know when to stop."

"Don't worry about it, Wembley," Gobo said. "I'll help you with everything. After all, I've won the Fraggle Five Hundred three times in a row. I'm practically an expert here!"

Wembley nodded, and washed his pickle until he was sure it was clean, and the smell was gone. Then he and Gobo got to work hollowing it out. While everyone was working on their cars, Boober came walking by with a basket to gather the pieces of what the Fraggles didn't use.

"How's it going?" he asked, putting a piece of Red's radish into his basket.

"It's going great, Boober!" Wembley shouted, scooping out the seeds from his pickle. "Soon, we'll all be ready for the race!"

"You're pretty excited about this race, aren't you?" Boober asked. He picked up a piece of the pickle and sniffed it. "Uh, Wembley?"

"Yeah, Boober?"

"I hate to tell you this, but pickles don't taste good in victory casserole."

"But aren't pickles just cucumbers that have been soaked in vinegar?"

"Well . . . . yes, but they don't go in casserole. I have never seen a recipe for pickle casserole."

"Maybe you can serve bits of Wembley's car as a side dish," Mokey suggested, handing Boober pieces of her eggplant that she didn't need.

"Well, I suppose I could make pickle chips," Boober said.

"Sounds great, Boober," Gobo said, scooping out the last of the pickle seeds. "Okay, Wembley, we've hollowed out the pickle, and carved the seat. Now all we have to do is add the wheels, the steering wheel, and the pedals."

"Oh boy!" Wembley shouted, excitedly. "I'll be right back with the wheels!"

Wembley ran off and returned shortly thereafter with two large mushroom caps and a small, round, flat rock. The mushrooms were going to be the back wheels, and the rock was going to be the front wheel.

"Thanks for helping me with my car, Gobo," Wembley said, as he fit one of the mushrooms on the car's back axle. "I hope you have time to build yours."

"Oh, don't worry about that, Wembley," Red said, coming over. "The Fraggle Five Hundred is two days away. That's plenty of time for Gobo to build his car."

"I'll help you build your car, Gobo," Wembley said. "After all, you helped me."

"Thanks, but let's save building mine for tomorrow," Gobo said, looking toward the Ditzies, who were the light source of Fraggle Rock. They were beginning to dim, like they usually did when night time approached.

"It's getting late," Gobo continued.

"Okay," Wembley said, yawning and stretching. "Boy, am I tired."

"Well, Wembley, you've had a very exciting day," Mokey said. "Come on, time for bed."

"Okay," Wembley said, yawning again, and he and the other Fraggles went to their caves for a good night's rest.


	3. And They're Off!

The next morning, Gobo was making some last minute adjustments to Wembley's pickle car. While he was doing that, Marlon walked by.

"Hi, Marlon," Gobo said. "Got your car all ready for the race?"

"I sure do," Marlon said. Then he saw the pickle. "What in the world . . . ."

"An oversized pickle," Gobo explained.

"I see," Marlon said, studying the car. "Looks very aerodynamic. It's small size would mean less wind resistance, and allow it to go faster. Mind if I look inside?"

Before Gobo could answer, Marlon hopped into the driver's seat of the pickle and looked around inside it.

"Oooh, this is hollowed out almost all the way through!" he shouted.

"Yeah, I know," Gobo said. "There wasn't any room for the pedals otherwise."

Marlon began to get nervous. He did some mental calculating, and realized that this pickle car would probably out run his green pepper car.

"I've got to go, Gobo!" he shouted. "My pepper needs a bit more adjustments. Such as hollowing it out a little more!"

"Okay, Marlon," Gobo said, polishing up the pickle with his sleeve. "But you don't want to hollow it out too much. If the chassis is too thin, you could accidentally put your foot through it when it's time to hit the brakes, and you could lose the pedals. Not to mention hurt your feet."

"Thanks for the advice, Gobo," Marlon said. "See you later!"

With that, Marlon ran off. Gobo shrugged, and went to go find Wembley so they could get to work on Gobo's carrot car.

Marlon, meanwhile, was pacing around his cave, certain Gobo was going to drive the pickle in the race.

"What am I going to do?" he asked himself. "I don't want to hollow out my pepper to make it lighter. Knowing my rotten luck at the Fraggle Five Hundred, if I do, I'll wind up putting my feet through it like Gobo said. I also can't convince Gobo to trade cars with me. He's so competitive, he'll definitely want to drive the fastest vegetable. And even if I talked him out of the race, there's still Red, who's just as competitive as Gobo is. Not to mention this year, Wembley is entered in the race, and whatever car he's driving is bound to go fast, since it won't be hauling much weight. Then there are the other Fraggles who are entered, too. How am I ever going to win this race?"

Marlon continued pacing back and forth. He had to do something, and he had to do it fast. Finally, he came up with an idea.

"I know what I'll do!" he shouted. Then he began rubbing his hands together, in a mix of evil and glee. "I'll cheat! I'd better get started, though. The race is tomorrow, and I have to make sure nobody sees me!"

Immediately, Marlon got to work. The first thing he did was hang an arrow on a cave wall at the track, pointing toward a dead end tunnel. Then, he dug a hole in the track, and covered it with sticks and dirt so it wouldn't be seen. Then, he rigged up a rope going across the race track, which (Marlon figured) would act like a slingshot, sending the car of who hit it backwards. Then he took some of Boober's vegetable oil and spread it around the track. Then Marlon moved on to the cars themselves. They were all lined up at the starting line, ready and raring to go. He wasn't going to do any sabotage to _all_ of the cars, however. That would make him look suspicious. He cut a giant wedge out of the mushroom wheel of one car, poured a bucket of water over the mushroom wheels of another, in order to make them mushy and not fit to drive on, cut open a makeshift trunk in another, and filled it with rocks, hollowed out as much as he could out of another, and finally, loosened one of the back wheels of the pickle car, as he was still under the impression that it was going to be driven by Gobo.

"I hate to be this sneaky, but I'm a desperate Fraggle here," he said. "I'll win the Fraggle Five Hundred if it's the last thing I ever do!"

Marlon gave out an evil laugh, and then snuck back to his cave before someone came out and caught him in the act of cheating.

Bright and early the next morning, the entire Rock was gathered on the race track of the Fraggle 500. The drivers were about ready to approach their cars. Marlon approached Red, and got a little _too_ close for comfort, in her opinion.

"Hey, Red," he said, with a slight laugh. "How about a kiss for good luck?"

"Eeewww!" Red shouted, pushing Marlon away from her. "Don't make me sick!"

Marlon just shrugged, and walked over to his car. On his way, he passed Gobo.

"Hello, Gobo," he said, in somewhat of a sing-song voice.

"Uhh, hi, Marlon," Gobo said, looking at the squinty-eyed Fraggle, a little confused.

"Lovely day for a race, isn't it?"

"Yeah, sure is."

"Good luck today. You'll need it. Heh, heh, heh, heh, heh!"

Gobo gave Marlon a weird look, shrugged, and climbed into his car.

"Ladies and gentle-fraggles!" Henchy Fraggle shouted into a megaphone. "Here's the World's Oldest Fraggle to introduce this year's entries in the Fraggle Five Hundred!"

A round of cheers and applause went up as the World's Oldest Fraggle took the megaphone from Henchy.

"Entry number one!" he shouted. "Mokey Fraggle in the Eggplant Excelerator! Entry number two, Red Fraggle in the Radish Roadster! Entry number three, Phil Fraggle in the Turbo Turnip! Entry number four, Pedley Fraggle in the Pedal Powered Parsnip!"

"Forgive me for saying this, your ancient-ness," Henchy said, rubbing spit out of his eye, "but think maybe next time, you can say it, and not spray it?"

"Oh keep quiet!" the World's Oldest Fraggle shouted, bopping Henchy's nose with his cane. "Entry number five, Gillis Fraggle in the Rocket Rutabaga! Entry number six, Feenie Fraggle in the Zippy Zucchini! Entry number seven, Rumple Fraggle in the Blast Off Beet! Entry number eight, Marlon Fraggle in the Greased Lightning Green Pepper! Entry number nine, Gobo Fraggle in the Carrot Cruiser! And last, but not least, making his debut in the Fraggle Five Hundred, Wembley Fraggle in the Pickle-Mobile!"

" _What_?!" Marlon shouted. "You . . . you mean _Wembley's_ driving the pickle? I thought _Gobo_ was driving the pickle! I saw him working on it!"

"That's because I was helping Wembley build his car," Gobo said. "This is his first race, after all."

"Yeah, Marlon," Wembley said. "I didn't know the first thing about building a racing vegetable for the Fraggle Five Hundred!"

"Eep!" Marlon squeaked, but it was such a tiny squeak, nobody heard him. He began to get nervous, and then he took a deep breath.

"It will be all right," he muttered to himself. "After all, the plan is that he'll notice the wheel is loose, and he'll have to stop and tighten it. Nothing to worry about. No big deal."

"Fraggles get on your mark!" the World's Oldest Fraggle shouted, as Morris Fraggle took a checkered flag and walked out to the starting line.

"Get set!" the World's Oldest Fraggle shouted. "GO!"

Morris waved the flag, and the Fraggle 500 was underway. However, only Mokey, Red, Gillis, Feenie, Marlon, Gobo, and Wembley sped off. The minute Phil made a full turn of his wheels, his car thumped, and stopped dead. He got out to see what the trouble was, and found a giant wedge had been sliced out of one of the wheels.

"How am I supposed to drive with a quarter of my wheel gone?!" he shouted.

"Look at the way that wheel's been cut!" Boober shouted, sounding a bit perturbed. "It's ruined! It's not even fit for a rumble bug to eat!"

Pedley wasn't going anywhere fast, either. His parsnip was so heavy, he could barely pedal it!

"It wasn't this heavy when I drove it out to the starting line last night!" he shouted, straining. But he continued to pedal anyway. He didn't think about stopping to check why it was so heavy. If he had, he would have seen that someone filled it with rocks.

"Looks like everyone's going to finish this race before Pedley even starts," Boober said.

Rumple wasn't having much luck, either. His wheels where spinning, but he wasn't getting anywhere. He did, however, notice that bits of mushroom were flying around as he pedaled.

"What the . . . ." he said. He finally got out of his car, and found that his back wheels were completely flat, not to mention waterlogged.

"Okay!" he shouted. "Who's the wise Fraggle that watered my wheels?!"

"Ugh!" Boober grimaced. "If there's one thing I can't stand, it's mushy mushrooms!"

"I hope the others are having better luck than Phil, Pedley, and Rumple," Lou Fraggle said, looking through a pair of binoculars to see the action along the track.

At the moment, Gobo was in the lead, with Red and Wembley closely behind him. Gillis was approaching the line up fast, followed by Mokey, Feenie, and Marlon, bringing up the rear. Marlon growled, and began pedaling harder. He swerved in front of Feenie so fast, Feenie braked his zucchini as hard as he could. He slammed the pedals so hard, he wound up pushing them through his car, and they rolled down the track. He had been completely unaware that it had been hollowed out more than it needed to be (courtesy of Marlon and his sabotage). Feenie lost them, and was unable to continue, since the pedals were attached to the front wheel.

"Uh oh," he said. "I broke my brakes!"

"Oooh, that's a tough break!" Boober shouted, looking through Lou's binoculars.

After Marlon passed Feenie, he sped up his pedaling, and passed Wembley. He figured he could keep ahead of him for the time being. Mokey was next, and she was approaching the sign Marlon planted turning off to another tunnel. Gobo, Red, and Gillis didn't pay any attention to it.

"Hmm, must be a detour," Mokey said. Then she turned her car down the tunnel. Marlon snickered, and pressed on in the correct direction.

"By the time she realizes she went the wrong way, the race will be over!" he shouted, and he sped up, in order to catch up with the other Fraggles.

Mokey drove her eggplant down the tunnel, and wound up at the dead end. She looked around, and scratched her head, wondering what in the world had happened.

"Hmmm," she said. "I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere. I wonder if I have my map of the track with me."

Mokey then began to search the pockets of her sweater in order to find the map of the Fraggle 500 track. That was going to take her a little while.

The next pitfall out on the track was the vegetable oil. Gillis managed to pull ahead of Red and Gobo, and was now in the lead. Unfortunately, that was going to be short lived. He didn't notice the oil in the road, and was heading right for it. Gobo had, however.

"Gillis, watch out for that oil!" he shouted.

"Can't fool me, Gobo!" Gillis sang. "I know how competitive you . . . _arrrrrrgh_!"

Gillis had hit the oil right in mid-sentence, and he lost control of his rutabaga. He tried to apply his brakes, but he only would up spinning in a complete circle, before skidding into the side of the wall, flattening one of his wheels into a mushroom pancake.

"That's it! I quit!" he shouted. "From now on, I'm walking!"

Before he left, however, Gillis pulled his car over to the oil slick, covered it, and scratched "Watch Out For Oil Slick" into the rutabaga so no one else would slip. Then he began walking back to the Great Hall.

"Good thing Gillis wasn't hurt," Lou said.

"I'll say," Boober said. "Skidding on that oil could have caused a _nasty_ accident! Though I _was_ wondering what happened to my vegetable oil. How did it get on the track?"

"Beats me," Lou said, shrugging, as she handed her binoculars to Boober so he could watch what was going to happen next.


	4. The Accident

Gobo and Red were neck and neck. Marlon was catching up to them. Red looked over her shoulder, and saw him coming.

"I'd better speed it up," she said, as she began to pedal harder. "No way I want to be anywhere _near_ Marlon! Yuck!"

Red sped up, and managed to pass Gobo as she did. As she pedaled, she kept her eyes behind her. She wanted to make sure she put a good distance between herself and Marlon. She wanted to leave him in the dust. Unfortunately, since she was watching out behind her, she didn't notice what was in front of her. The rope Marlon had set up was directly in her path. However, Marlon had made a slight miscalculation in setting it up. It was a bit too high. Instead of Red's car running into it, it sailed directly under it. Unfortunately, it wasn't high enough for Red to avoid it, and she hit it, and was pulled right out of her car. Marlon was right about one thing, though. It did act as a slingshot of sorts. Red was flung back a ways, sailing right past Gobo.

"What the . . . ." Gobo asked. He wasn't quite sure _what_ that was that flew past him. He just shrugged, and continued pedaling.

Red plunked on the ground right on her backside. She was a little confused at first, but then she realized what had happened.

"Oh no!" she shouted, and she began chasing after her car, which kept right on going. "Hey, come back here! You can't cross the finish line without me! It's against the rules for a car to cross the finish line without a driver! I'll be disqualified!"

Marlon then approached, and smirked.

"Hey, Red!" he called out. "How's about giving me a big victory kiss after I win the race?"

"I'd rather be eaten alive by a Poison Cackler!" Red shouted, grimacing at the thought of kissing Marlon.

Marlon just laughed, and pedaled on his way, passing Red completely.

"I hated to do that to her, but I've _got_ to win this race!" he shouted. "All that's left is to get ahead of Gobo, which shouldn't take too long now!"

Marlon was right about that. Gobo was headed directly for the hole Marlon had dug, and would up hitting it.

"Whooooaaaa!" Gobo shouted, as he was flung from his car. He landed right into a shallow pool of water.

"Darn those burrow beasts," he grumbled as he climbed out of the pool. "They'll dig holes anywhere!"

"Better luck next time, Gobo!" Marlon shouted with a laugh, as he passed by.

Gobo glared at Marlon, and went to retrieve his car. He found that it had been snapped in half when he hit the hole.

"Well, that's the end of the race for me, eh?" he said, as he put the front half of his car into the back end, and began pushing it like a wheelbarrow. Marlon was practically beside himself.

"Oh boy!" he shouted. "I'm ahead! With both Gobo and Red out of the race, I'll win for sure! Although, I can't help feeling I've forgotten something. I wonder what it could be? Oh well. It will come to me sooner or later."

By this time, the race was about to come to a close. The Fraggles at the Great Hall were all waiting in anticipation about what was going to happen next.

"The cars are approaching the finish line!" the World's Oldest Fraggle shouted. "And here comes the first car now! And the winner is . . . ."

Morris waved the checkered flag as Marlon crossed the finish line.

"Marlon Fraggle in the Greased Lightning Green Pepper!" the World's Oldest Fraggle shouted.

" _Mar_ lon?!" Lou shouted, incredulously.

"I don't believe it!" Boober shouted.

Suddenly, Red's radish car crossed the finish line next, and kept on going. It headed right for the grandstand.

"Look out!" Boober cried, and he and the other Fraggles scattered out of the way, screaming. The radish hit the grandstand, destroying it.

"I knew Red was reckless, but _that's_ ridiculous!" Boober shouted.

"Wait a minute, where _is_ Red?" Lou asked. "She wasn't driving when she crossed the finish line!"

"No kidding!" Red shouted, breathlessly, as she crossed the finish line on foot. "Someone hung a clothesline on the course, and my car got away from me."

"At least your car made it in one piece," Gobo said, wheeling what was left of his car across the finish line.

"Gobo, what happened?" Pedley asked, giving up on trying to get moving, since he hadn't made much progress at all.

"I hit a hole in the track," Gobo said. "There must have been a burrow beast out there last night or something. You know how they love to dig."

"I wonder what happened to Mokey and Wembley?" Boober asked.

"Here I am," Mokey said, crossing the finish line. "I took a wrong turn."

"Well, congratulations, Mokey," Red said, shaking her best friend's hand. "You officially came in second this year. You've finally ranked in the top three of the Fraggle Five Hundred."

"Oh, really?" Mokey asked. "Wow, that's never happened to me before!"

"Yeah, I got disqualified because my car crossed the finish line before I did," Red sighed. "And Gobo's car snapped in half. Believe it or not, Marlon won."

"Really?" Mokey asked. "But where's Wembley?"

"He probably came to a fork in the road and is still there, wembling about which way to go," Red said. "You know him."

"Wait a minute, I see him," Boober said, looking through Lou's binoculars. "But I think something's wrong. It looks like he's having trouble controlling his car."

"Let me see," Gobo said, taking he binoculars.

Marlon drew in his breath. He finally realized what it was he had forgotten, and that was Wembley's loose wheel.

 _It's going to be okay,_ he thought to himself. _He's bound to notice it's loose soon._

Gobo looked through the binoculars, and sure enough, there was Wembley out on the track, having a hard time steering, but he wasn't going to let that stop him. He didn't even notice his rear wheel was wobbling, and badly. Suddenly, the mushroom came off the axle completely, and Wembley lost control, much like Gillis did when he hit the oil slick.

"Oh my gosh!" Gobo shouted. "Wembley's rear wheel just came off! He's out of control!"

" _What_?!" Marlon shouted.

Gobo continued to watch the action through the binoculars. Wembley tried to brake his car, slamming his feet against the pedals as hard as he possibly could, but the car wound rolling over, right off the edge of a cliff.

"Wembley!" Gobo shouted, dropping the binoculars.

"What's wrong, Gobo?" Mokey asked.

"Wembley's car rolled right off the cliff!" Gobo shouted.

"Oh no!" Boober shouted. "Oh this is bad! This is really, really, _really_ bad!"

"Come on, you guys!" Red shouted, as she started running. "We've got to go help him!"

The other Fraggles agreed, and ran off. They reached the accident site in record time, and followed the wheel tracks to the edge of the cliff. There was a ledge below, where the wreckage of Wembley's Pickle-Mobile was. Wembley didn't appear to be there, at least not until Lou looked at the wreck through her binoculars.

"He must be under the car," she said. "I think I can make out his tail."

"Okay," Gobo said, tying a piece of rope around his waist. "I'm going down to get him."

"You can't do that!" Boober shouted. "You should _never_ move an unconscious Fraggle! You might hurt him more than he's hurt already!"

"Well, we can't leave him underneath that pickle forever, Boober!" Red shouted.

"Don't you have a stretcher in your hole somewhere, Boober?" Mokey asked.

"Yeah, actually," Boober said. "I'll go and get it."

"I'll go get some extra rope, too," Gobo said. "Everybody else stay here and _don't_ move!"

The others nodded, and Gobo and Boober ran off. Red and Mokey followed them, figuring Boober might need help carrying the stretcher. Boober also needed to pick up his doctor's bag, just in case. Once they returned, Gobo tied some rope to each end of Boober's stretcher. He handed the ends to the other Fraggles.

"Lower that down first," Gobo said. "Then I'll go down."

"Me too," Red said. "You're going to need help moving that pickle."

Mokey, Lou, Pedley, and Morris also volunteered to go down in order to move the pickle. Gobo took another piece of rope and began tying it around his waist.

"We're going to need you to come down, too, Boober," he said.

" _Me_?!" Boober squeaked. "Why me?!"

"You're the only Fraggle who knows about injuries and broken bones and stuff like that," Red pointed out. "You said so yourself, we can't move him right away, and we won't know when we'll be able to move him!"

"Ooohhh . . . ." Boober moaned. "All right. But I'll only go down if I'm hanging onto Gobo! And the same goes for going up, too!"

"Okay," Gobo said. "Let's go."

Boober took another piece of rope, tied it around his waist, and clung to Gobo as tightly as he could. Gobo handed the end of both his, and Boober's ropes to the other Fraggles, and they lowered them down to the ledge. Then they untied themselves, and sent the ropes back up so the others could use them to climb down. Once the rescue team was on the ledge, Gobo, Mokey, Red, Lou, Pedley, and Morris grabbed the pickle, and lifted it. Lou had been right. Wembley had been underneath it, and he was unconscious.

"Hurry it up, Boober!" Red shouted. "We can't hold this up all day!"

Boober then began looking over Wembley, touching him gingerly, trying to avoid doing any major damage. The others were getting a little impatient with how slowly he was going.

"Speed it up, Boober!" Gobo shouted, straining. "I don't know if I can hold this thing up much longer!"

"I have an idea," Lou said. "Everybody push this way! On three. One, two, three . . . ."

"HEAVE!" the Fraggles shouted, pushing the pickle in the direction Lou indicated, which sent it flying the rest of the way down the cliff.

"Thank you," Boober said. "That should give me a little more light to work with. The good news is Wembley's still breathing. The bad news is that might be the only good news here."

Boober began to look over Wembley again, feeling his limbs and torso gently.

"Mmm hmm," he said. "Just as I suspected."

"What's the diagnosis, Boober?" Mokey asked.

"He's about as broken as his car," Boober said. "His left leg is broken, his right ankle is broken, his right arm is broken, his left wrist is broken, I'm pretty sure he's got some broken ribs, and he's got a _very_ nasty bump on the head. It's probably a concussion. And finally, as I suspected this would happen all along, whiplash."

"Ouch," Red grimaced.

"Poor Wembley!" Lou shouted.

"Gobo, come here," Boober said, kneeling down next to Wembley. "I'm going to need your help."

"Oh, sure, Boober," Gobo said. "What do you want me to do?"

"Hold these in place when I tell you," Boober said, handing Gobo an armload of sticks. "I'll need two to start with Wembley's leg."

Gobo nodded, put all but two of the sticks down, and held them where Boober indicated, while Boober wrapped some bandages around the sticks to hold them in place.

"Lou, keep an eye on this," Boober said. "I don't think I tied those bandages tight enough to cut off circulation, but you never know. You can never be too sure. Let me know if Wembley's leg begins to look pale, swollen, or starts turning blue."

"Okay, Boober," Lou said.

Boober then took one of his sticks, and broke it in half. He handed the pieces to Gobo, and told him to hold them against Wembley's other foot, and then tied some more bandages around them. Then he took another stick, told Gobo to hold it against Wembley's right arm, and tied it with the bandages. Then, Boober took a handful of cotton out of his doctor's bag, and put it in the palm of Wembley's left hand.

"Close his fingers around the cotton, Gobo," Boober said. "But do it gently, okay?"

"Okay," Gobo said, and closed Wembley's fingers around the cotton wad. Once that was done, Boober put some more cotton between Wembley's fingers, and wrapped the bandages around his hand. Then he took a cervical collar out of his doctor's bag, and placed it around Wembley's neck for the time being.

"Okay, I think that about does it for now," Boober said. "I'll take care of everything better when we get Wembley back home, but this should hold until we get there."

"So it's okay to move him now?" Red asked.

"Yes, but be _extreme_ ly careful," Boober said. "Try to keep him flat."

Boober pushed the stretcher next to Wembley while Gobo, Lou, Morris, and Pedley rolled Wembley onto his side, as gently as they possibly could. Then, just as gently, they rolled the unconscious Fraggle onto Boober's stretcher. Gobo took one of the ropes, and gently tied Wembley to it, as a makeshift seatbelt.

"Okay, guys!" he called up. "He's ready to go! But take it easy when you pull him up!"

The other Fraggles nodded, and began pulling slowly. Once they got it up, Gobo threw the end of the rope around his waist (and the one around Boober's waist) upward. Boober then clung to Gobo, and the two of them made their way up the cliff, followed by Red, Mokey, Lou, Pedley, and Morris.

"Okay, let's get Wembley back to your cave, Gobo," Boober said. "I'll be able to work from there."

"Check," Gobo said, as he and Mokey took the ends of the stretcher, and followed Boober back to the Great Hall.


	5. Marlon's Trial

Marlon hadn't gone with the other Fraggles to the cliff. Instead, he was pacing around the Great Hall, nervously. He was afraid the others were going to find out about his sabotage. Finally, he saw them coming. He let out an audible gasp when he saw Gobo and Mokey carrying Wembley on the stretcher.

"Oh no!" he shouted. "What happened?!"

"It was a pretty bad accident," Red said. "Wembley nearly broke every bone in his body!"

"Seriously?" Marlon asked. "Oh my goodness . . ."

Marlon then ran after Boober, Gobo, and Mokey. He caught up with them at the cave Gobo and Wembley shared. Mokey was standing outside.

"Oh, sorry, Marlon, you can't go in there," she said. "Boober doesn't want to be disturbed while he's working on Wembley."

"Is it _really_ that bad?" Marlon asked. "Did he _really_ break every bone in his body?"

"No," Mokey said. "Just a leg, an ankle, an arm, a wrist, and some ribs. Boober also said he's got whiplash and possibly a concussion."

"But if Boober doesn't want to be disturbed, how come Gobo is allowed in there?"

"Because it's Gobo's room, too."

"Oh."

All the other Fraggles then began gathering around the cave, but Mokey told them what she told Marlon. They had to wait.

Inside the cave, Boober put Wembley in Gobo's bed, since it would be easier for him to treat the green Fraggle. That, and Gobo didn't want to risk Wembley hurting himself even more by trying to climb the ladder to his own bed. While Boober was bandaging Wembley's injuries, Wembley moaned, and slowly opened his eyes.

"Oooohhhh, what happened?" he asked, weakly.

"Don't move, Wembley," Gobo said. "You've been in a very bad accident."

"That's okay, Gobo," Wembley groaned. "I don't think I could move even if I wanted to."

"How do you feel, Wembley?" Boober asked, taking Wembley's eyelid, and holding it open so he could check his eyes.

"Dizzy," Wembley moaned. "And everything hurts, too."

"I'm not surprised," Boober said. "You've got several broken bones, whiplash, and you hit your head pretty good, too."

"Oh," Wembley said. Then he let out a moan, closed his eyes, and lost consciousness again.

Gobo was about to try to wake Wembley up, but Boober stopped him.

"Let him rest for awhile, Gobo," he said. "That's the best thing for him right now."

"How long until he's up and about?" Gobo asked.

"I'd say about six weeks. Maybe more, I don't know. He'll be okay, as long as complications don't set in. Which they probably will. And if they do, there will be no hope for him, and then . . . ."

" _Boo_ ber!"

"Sorry."

Gobo sighed, and he and Boober left the cave for the time being. Once they did, all the other Fraggles began talking at once, wondering what was going on.

"Well, everybody," Gobo said, "there's not much else we can do right now, but Boober thinks Wembley will be okay."

"For now, at least," Boober said. "He's going to be out of commission for about six weeks, though."

"Can we go in and see him?" Lou asked.

"I'd rather you didn't, Lou," Boober said. "At least not right now. I don't want to overwhelm him with too many visitors. He needs rest, and too many visitors might overstimulate him."

The others nodded, and went to the Great Hall. Gobo, Red, Mokey, Phil, Feenie, Gillis, Rumple, Pedley, and Marlon began dismantling their cars, and cutting them up so Boober could use them for cooking, though no one was sure if the Fraggle 500 post race party was going to be cancelled or not.

"Poor little Wembley," Marlon said.

"Don't worry, Marlon," Mokey said. "It was just an accident. Like everything else that happened during the race today."

"Yeah, but I wonder how all that stuff happened," Red said. "It's kind of strange that something would happen to nearly every car in the race."

"If you ask me," Gillis said, "it was the work of a saboteur!"

"But who would want to sabotage the Fraggle Five Hundred?" Gobo asked.

"Hey, you guys, look at this!" Pedley shouted. "Someone cut a hole in my parsnip and filled it with rocks!"

"No wonder you weren't moving," Gobo said. "That many rocks in there would slow even the strongest Fraggle down!"

"It would be like giving Large Marvin a ride," Red said.

"I knew it!" Gillis shouted. "I knew it! Someone _did_ sabotage this race! I just knew it!"

"And I think I know who the saboteur is, too," Red said. "Marlon Fraggle!"

"Who, me?" Marlon asked, nervously. "I . . . . I don't know what you're talking about, Red!"

"Don't play innocent with me, Marlon," Red said. "I know you did it! You're the only Fraggle in the race who didn't have anything happen to their car!"

"Red, calm down," Gobo said. "Don't you think you're jumping to conclusions?"

"Yeah, Red!" Marlon shouted. "Haven't you ever heard of everyone is innocent until proven guilty?"

"Then how come you're one that didn't have some kind of accident?" Red asked. "I'm going to get the World's Oldest Fraggle and see what he has to say about this!"

"But-but-but-but . . . ." Marlon stammered. Before he could say anything else, Red stormed off to find the World's Oldest Fraggle.

Within minutes, the Fraggle Horn blew, and every Fraggle (except Wembley) gathered in the Great Hall.

"Red Fraggle," the World's Oldest Fraggle said, "you called this meeting today to make an accusation of some kind?"

"Yes, I did," Red said.

"Well, you know the rules about accusing a Fraggle of something," the World's Oldest Fraggle said. "You must recite the Solemn Fraggle Oath."

"Right," Red said. "I remember."

"You _sure_ you want to go through with this again, Red?" Mokey asked. "You remember what happened the _last_ time something like this happened, when the Fraggle Horn went missing."

"Yeah you falsely accused Uncle Matt and Boober for stealing the Fraggle Horn," Gobo said. "And then you wound up with no radish bars for a week, and then you had to walk backwards while carrying a large rock."

"Yeah, well, this time, it's different," Red said, and she began to sing.

 _I'll get information and speculation for the exploration it's true_

 _And the expectations of the operation are very high_

 _But the motivation for the perpetration is a botheration right through_

 _And the preparation of the accusation leaves me high and dry_

 _But I'm on the case and I'm in the chase and I won't go back_

 _'Cause I'm on the track, to know (to know), to know (to know)_

 _And the facts come in 'til my senses spin_

 _But my mind is clear and I'm searching here_

 _To know (to know), to know (to know), to know (to know)_

 _There's a lot I want to know_

 _Now the aggravation of the investigation is the imputation of guilt_

 _And the implication is a prevarication when they talk to me_

 _But my reputation for concentration and inspiration is built_

 _On a dedication to imagination to a high degree_

 _But I'm on the case and I'm in the chase and I won't go back_

 _'Cause I'm on the track, to know (to know), to know (to know)_

 _And the facts come in 'til my senses spin_

 _But my mind is clear and I'm searching here_

 _To know (to know), to know (to know), to know (to know)_

 _There's a lot I want to know_

 _There's a lot I want to know_

 _There's a lot of stuff I've got to figure out_

"But this time, I pretty much got it figured out already," Red said.

"All right, all right," the World's Oldest Fraggle said. "You know what to do, then. Recite the solemn oath!"

"Right," Red said. Then she cleared her throat. "By the Solemn Oath of the Fraggles, I accuse Marlon Fraggle of cheating in the Fraggle Five Hundred! Weeba-weeba, waffa-waffa, garpox, gumbidge, whoopee!"

All of the Fraggles in the Great Hall gasped. Cheating was a very serious matter in Fraggle Rock, as Fraggles never cheated. They all began to talk at once, until the World's Oldest Fraggle banged his cane against a rock.

"Quiet! Quiet, please! Everyone be quiet!" he shouted. "PUT A SOCK IN IT, YOU FRAGGLES!"

The Fraggles then quieted down. The World's Oldest Fraggle cleared his throat, and turned to Marlon.

"Well, Marlon Fraggle, you face a pretty big charge here," he said. "Cheating is a _very_ serious accusation, you know!"

"But I'm innocent!" Marlon shouted. "I'm innocent I tell you! Do I look like a Fraggle who would cheat?"

"Well, now that you mention it," the World's Oldest Fraggle said, "yes, you do."

"But I didn't!" Marlon shouted. "I swear, I did not cheat in the race!"

"All right, Red Fraggle," the World's Oldest Fraggle said. "What proof do you have that Marlon Fraggle cheated in the Fraggle Five Hundred?"

"Just look at what happened to all of us during the race!" Red shouted.

"Yeah," Phil said. "Someone cut a wedge in my back mushroom!"

"And someone watered my wheels so they'd be too mushy to roll!" Rumple shouted.

"And someone cut a trunk in my car and filled it with rocks so that it would be too heavy to move," Pedley said.

"And someone hollowed out my zucchini so I would punch the pedals through it if I stopped too hard," Feenie said. "Now that I think about it, I _had_ to put on the brakes pretty hard during the race, because Marlon cut me off!"

"And someone hung a detour sign on the route and I wound up taking a wrong turn that lead into a dead end," Mokey said.

"And someone poured vegetable oil on the track which caused me to spin out of control!" Gillis shouted.

"And someone hung up a clothesline in the middle of the track which slingshot me right out of my car!" Red shouted.

"And someone dug a hole in the middle of the track which I drove into and it snapped my car in half!" Gobo shouted.

"How do you know it wasn't a burrow beast who dug that hole, Gobo?" Marlon asked. "After all, you said it _must_ have been a burrow beast!"

"Yeah, but I just remembered something," Gobo said. "I couldn't _see_ the hole in the middle of the road until I hit it. It was covered up and hidden. Burrow beasts _don't_ hide their holes!"

"And last, but certainly not least," Red went on, "and probably the _worst_ thing Marlon did, he tampered with Wembley's car, and caused him to nearly get killed!"

"Is that true, Marlon?" the World's Oldest Fraggle asked. "Did you _really_ and intentionally loosen Wembley Fraggle's wheel so that he would careen out of control and have that accident?"

"No!" Marlon shouted. "Of course not! It wasn't _supposed_ to happen like _that_! What was _supposed_ to happen was he would notice the wheel was loose and he'd have to stop to fix it, which would slow him down! How was I supposed to know the wheel would come off and he'd lose control and wind up having an accident?"

" _WHAT_?!" Gobo shouted at the top of his voice. "You mean you _did_ sabotage Wembley's car?!"

"I thought it was _your_ car," Marlon said. "How was I supposed to know you were only helping Wembley build his?"

"Then you admit to sabotaging the other cars in the Fraggle Five Hundred?" Red asked. "I think we have a confession right there, your decrepit-ness."

"Oops," Marlon said. "I, uhhh, that is, uhh, I mean, uhhh . . . ."

There was no way Marlon could talk his way out of this. He had been caught red handed.

"Oh, _Mar_ lon!" Mokey shouted. "How _could_ you?!"

"That's low, Marlon," Lou said. " _Really_ low! Even for you!"

"But I didn't _want_ little Wembley to get hurt!" Marlon shouted. "I didn't want _any_ Fraggle to get hurt!"

"Well, Marlon Fraggle," the World's Oldest Fraggle said, "I think you're in big trouble!"

"Would it help if I said I was sorry?" Marlon asked.

"What do you think?" the World's Oldest Fraggle asked.

"I think I'm in big trouble," Marlon said.

"You think right!" the World's Oldest Fraggle shouted. "You are about to be punished as no Fraggle has ever been punished before! First of all, you are hereby disqualified from this year's Fraggle Five Hundred!"

"What?!" Marlon shouted. "But . . . but that's not fair! I came in first! I won! I won!"

"You won by cheating," Gobo pointed out.

"That's right," the World's Oldest Fraggle said. "So I officially declare the second place winner, Mokey Fraggle, the winner of this year's Fraggle Five Hundred!"

"Oh, thank you, your elderly-ness," Mokey said. "I only wish I could have won under more favorable circumstances."

"Secondly, Marlon Fraggle," the World's Oldest Fraggle continued, "you are hereby barred from attending the Fraggle Five Hundred post-race victory party!"

"Are we even having the party this year, your old-aged-ship?" Henchy asked. "Considering what happened and all . . . ."

"Yes, we're still having it!" the World's Oldest Fraggle shouted, whacking Henchy in the nose with his cane. "And finally, Marlon Fraggle, you are hereby forbidden to enter the Fraggle Five Hundred again!"

"What?!" Marlon shouted. "No, no, you can't do that, your most ancient one! Please, please don't ban be from the race! Please! I beg of you! How will I get a chance to beat Gobo in the race if I'm banned from it?"

"You should have thought of that before you decided to cheat," the World's Oldest Fraggle said. "As a matter of fact, I forbid you from anything to do with the Fraggle Five Hundred! No race, no race parties, not even going to the race just to watch it! Now, go to your room, and think about what you've done!"

Marlon moaned, and began to walk off. The other Fraggles glared at him.

"How could you do it, Marlon?" Gobo asked. "How could you even stoop that low?"

"But I didn't mean it!" Marlon shouted. "I didn't plan that accident to happen!"

"Well, it _did_ happen," Gobo said. "I don't know what I'm madder about. Knowing that you intended for _me_ to lose that wheel and have that accident, or that it happened to my best friend!"

"Gobo, I didn't _want_ the accident to happen! I didn't mean to hurt Wembley! I swear!"

"Forget it, Marlon! I don't even know if I can forgive you for this one! Just stay away from me! And stay away from Wembley, too! I don't want him associating with a cheater, _or_ someone who tried to kill him!"

With that, Gobo stormed off. Marlon sighed, and continued on his way to his cave. Before he left the Great Hall, Red came up to him.

"Marlon, I just want you to know something," she said. "I think you're a terrible, horrible, awful, Fraggle for sabotaging all of us! You're lower than a wonkworm's belt buckle!"

"Does this mean I don't get my victory kiss?" Marlon asked.

Red groaned, and punched Marlon right in the face as hard as she could, leaving him seeing stars.

"I guess not," he said, dazedly.

* * *

 _AUTHOR'S NOTE: The song in this chapter is from the "Fraggle Rock" episode, "Inspector Red."_


	6. Revenge

A couple of days went by. The World's Oldest Fraggle decided to postpone the post-Fraggle 500 party. No one was really in the mood to celebrate. Wembley wasn't in good shape. He was in a lot of pain, and nothing the others did for him seemed to help.

"I'll go see if I can mix up a remedy that might help, Wembley," Boober said, and he left the cave in order to check out his recipes.

"Thanks," Wembley said. Then he groaned. "Ooooh, I don't think I can stand it!"

"It'll be okay, Wembley," Gobo said. "I know it hurts. It hurt when I broke my leg after I was thumped by the Gorgs. I can't imagine what kind of pain you're feeling, though."

Wembley let out a loud moan. It even hurt keeping still. Gobo didn't know what to do to soothe him. Finally, Boober returned with a glass containing some red liquid.

"Here, Wembley," he said. "This should help make you feel a little better."

Gobo helped Wembley sit up so he wouldn't choke on the drink Boober had mixed up for him. He groaned again after laying back down, and then yawned.

"What was that, Boober?" Wembley asked. "I'm starting to feel . . . . sleepy all of a . . . . sudden . . . ."

Before Boober could answer, Wembley dropped off to sleep. Gobo couldn't believe it.

"Wow, I've never seen anyone fall asleep _that_ fast before!" Boober shouted. "What did you put in that drink?"

"Strawberry juice, cave blossom, ekko root, orange sage, and a _very_ teeny, tiny amount of blunnealla," Boober said.

Gobo looked at Boober as if he were crazy. He knew cave blossom, ekko root, and orange sage were pain relievers. He also knew that blunnealla wasn't something Boober used too often in cooking.

"Blunnealla?" he repeated. "Isn't that stuff kind of potent to put in a drink?"

"That's why I only put a _very_ teeny, tiny amount in it," Boober explained. "It's a great sedative. I figured Wembley would be in too much pain to try to fall asleep on his own, so I gave him something to help the process along."

"Yeah, that makes sense, I guess. How long do you think he'll be out?"

"I'd say about eight hours. I don't want to give him too much blunnealla at once. It might make him sleep longer, but too much of it, and he might wind up sleeping forever, if you get my drift."

Gobo nodded. He completely understood what Boober was saying. In any case, Boober left so he could go do the laundry. Gobo covered Wembley with a blanket, and went to work on his maps for awhile. He didn't want to leave Wembley by himself, if he was in a lot of pain. While he was working, he heard a knock on the cave wall.

"Anybody home?" the voice of Marlon Fraggle asked. Gobo groaned, and went up to the door.

"What do _you_ want?" he asked. "I thought I told you I didn't want to see you again!"

"I want to talk to Wembley," Marlon said. "I want to apologize for what happened."

"He's asleep right now, and I don't want to wake him up. Besides, I don't want you near him!"

"But I _told_ you, Gobo, it was just an accident!"

"An accident that nearly killed him!"

"But I didn't _intend_ for it to happen! I swear!"

Gobo glared at Marlon for a moment or so. He wasn't sure if the squinty-eyed Fraggle was telling the truth or not. Finally, he got an idea.

"Are you willing to give the Solemn Fraggle Oath to that effect?" he asked.

"Why?" Marlon asked. "I've told you a million times I didn't want that crash to happen! Why won't you believe me?!"

"Because I know you, Marlon," Gobo said. "You're a sneaky, underhanded type of Fraggle! If you recite the Solemn Fraggle Oath, I'll believe you didn't mean for Wembley to crash and nearly get killed."

"All right, all right," Marlon grumbled, and he placed his hand over his chest. "I, Marlon Fraggle, do solemnly swear that I did not mean for little Wembley to crash his car in the Fraggle Five Hundred and almost get killed, and I solemnly swear that I did not want that to happen. Weeba-weeba, waffa-waffa, garpox, gumbidge, whoopee! There, are you satisfied now?"

"Yes. Now get out of here."

"What?! But you said . . . ."

"I said if you gave the Solemn Fraggle Oath that I'd believe that you didn't mean it, didn't plan it, and didn't want it to happen! I didn't say I'd forgive you! How can you _expect_ me to forgive you, Marlon?!"

"Because I didn't mean for that crash to happen!"

"I _know_ you didn't mean it, and I know you didn't want it to happen, but it did!"

"But I'm _really_ sorry, Gobo! Really and truly, I am! Just give me a chance to apologize to little Wembley, please?"

"No! Because if I know you, you're gonna try to make him think it was his own fault for what you did! Now get out of here, and don't come back!"

Marlon growled at Gobo, turned around, and stormed away. As he was leaving, Lou was arriving.

"What's with him?" she asked.

"Nothing," Gobo said, sourly. "He wanted to talk to Wembley. He said he wanted to apologize, but somehow, I don't believe him. Though I _do_ believe him about him not wanting the accident to happen and that he didn't mean to hurt Wembley."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, I made him take the Solemn Fraggle Oath. If a Fraggle takes the Solemn Fraggle Oath, then they mean business. Even Marlon. If he didn't mean it, he wouldn't have gotten through with taking the oath."

"I see. Anyway, how's Wembley?"

"He's asleep right now. I'd rather not wake him up, though. Think you could come back later, Lou?"

"Oh, sure. See you later, Gobo."

And with that, Lou left. She didn't want to wake up Wembley just so she could visit with him. She understood that he needed a lot of rest.

Meanwhile, Marlon was walking around the Great Hall, grumbling. Mokey and Red passed by on their way to the Gorgs' garden to get some radishes.

"Hi, Marlon," Mokey said. "What's wrong?"

"Need you ask?" Red asked.

"Gobo is being as stubborn as a rock!" Marlon shouted. "I want to apologize to Wembley for what I did and he won't let me!"

"I don't blame him," Red said. "After all, you _did_ nearly kill Wembley."

"Don't you start that, too, Red!" Marlon shouted. "I told you already, that was an accident! I was not planning on that, and furthermore, I did not _want_ any Fraggle to get hurt! And don't tell me I have to take the Solemn Fraggle Oath to get you to believe me, because Gobo made me do it already!"

"But are you really and truly sorry, Marlon?" Mokey asked.

"YES I AM REALLY AND TRULY SORRY!" Marlon screamed at the top of his lungs. "WHAT MORE DO I HAVE TO DO TO PROVE THAT I AM REALLY AND TRULY SORRY?!"

Marlon began breathing heavily then, waiting for Red and Mokey to say something. The two female Fraggles were a bit taken aback. They had never seen anyone yell like that before.

"Okay, you're really and truly sorry," Red said. "No need to blow a gasket. _Sheesh!_ "

"Yeah," Mokey said, nodding her head, slowly. "It's okay, Marlon. I believe you. Uhh, we have to go now. Bye!"

"Yeah, so long!" Red shouted, and she and Mokey ran off. Marlon sighed.

"Why bother?" he asked. "Every Fraggle's going to be mad at me forever. Nobody is going to believe me when I tell them I didn't mean to do it. All I wanted was to win the Fraggle Five Hundred. Is that so wrong? True, cheating wasn't right, but I didn't know Wembley was going to drive off that cliff! I didn't know he wouldn't notice the wheel was loose! This isn't _all_ my fault! But nobody's going to believe it, so long as _Gobo_ has anything to say about it."

Marlon walked on, and then an idea came to him.

"Wait a minute," he said. "I know what will make everyone forget about being mad at me. I have to make them mad at someone else! And I'll make them mad at Gobo! All I have to do is figure out how to do it."

For several hours, Marlon thought about what he could do to make all the Fraggles mad at Gobo. That wasn't going to be easy. Gobo was very well liked around the Rock, and Marlon knew it. He was practically Mr. Popularity. He didn't get the idea until he saw Boober, Mokey, and Red carrying a couple of baskets filled with various fruits and vegetables to Boober's kitchen.

"Are you sure it's okay to have these bonkleberries here, Boober?" Mokey asked. "You know how allergic Wembley is to them!"

"Yes, I know," Boober said. "But his cave's far enough away from the pantry for it to be safe. Besides, I need the bonkleberries to prepare the ointment I make for him."

"Really?" Red asked. "I would think that would be a disaster!"

"Not really," Boober said. "I just peel them, and grind up the skins, and put just a tiny amount in the ointment."

"I've always wondered how you made that stuff," Red said.

"Yeah, but as soon as I'm finished with the bonkleberries," Boober continued, "I take the ground up peels and put them in my special storage, which is further down one of the tunnels, close to my secret hidey hole, and I get rid of the rest of the berries immediately. I wouldn't want Wembley to accidentally _eat_ a bonkleberry, after all!"

Red, Mokey, and Boober dropped off the baskets in the kitchen. Boober was about to take some bonkleberries and peel them, when Lou came running by.

"Boober!" she shouted. "Gobo told me to come and get you!"

"What's wrong, Lou?" Mokey asked.

"Nothing extreme," Lou said. "Wembley's awake, and Gobo wants to know if you have any of that drink you made for him left."

"Yeah, right here," Boober said, indicating a nearby pitcher. "But let me take a look at him first. He may need something on his stomach. Luckily, I've got some radish soup in that pot on the stove. All I need to do is heat it up. Better go wash my hands, though. I don't want to have bonkleberry residue on me during the examination."

With that, Boober, Mokey, and Red followed Lou to the Fraggle Pond so they could wash off any bonkleberry residue they had on them. This was Marlon's chance. He snuck into the kitchen, put on a pair of rubber gloves Boober had laying around, grabbed a handful of bonkleberries, and squeezed them into the pot of radish soup. Then he began singing, as he began adding some whole bonkleberries to the pot as well.

 _Take a pinch of this and a shake of that_

 _And a splash of somethin' good_

 _'Cause the cook just knows by the twitch in his nose_

 _The way a good cook should_

 _Take an ounce of this and a pound of that_

 _And a ton of something else_

 _And you stir it 'round and you let it brown_

 _Till the whole concoction melts_

 _Give it a whoop with a loop-the-loop a ladle and a scoop_

 _It's a good-time goombah soup_

 _A good time can be had by all_

 _With a good-time goombah soup_

 _It'll rock your socks till you caterwaul_

 _That good-time goombah soup_

 _It's a soup that laughs and barks and jeers_

 _It's the old-time goombah soup_

 _It'll pin your ears till you give three cheers_

 _It's a good-time goombah soup_

 _Everybody wants some more_

 _It's an old-time goombah soup_

 _With a hey and a ho and I love it so_

 _The good-time goombah soup_

 _Put a little shake here_

 _And a little shake there_

 _And then there's soup to spare_

"This ought to do it," he said, with somewhat of an evil laugh. "When Gobo gives Wembley this soup, he'll have a bonkleberry attack, and then everyone will be mad at Gobo for giving him something with bonkleberries in it! I'll be off the hook!"

While Marlon was laughing and rubbing his hands together in evil glee, he heard Mokey, Red, and Lou pass by. He ducked down so he wouldn't be seen, but he could still hear the girls' conversation.

"I've always meant to ask this," Lou said. "What would happen if Wembley _did_ eat a bonkleberry?"

"Boober said he could go into anaphylactic shock," Mokey said.

"What's that mean?" Lou asked. "I've never heard of that before!"

"It's a scary sight," Red said. "I saw it happen to Gobo once a long time ago, when we were still little Fraggles. I gave him one of my radish bars one day. You know Gobo's allergic them, right?"

"Yeah," Lou asked. "We just don't know what it is that's in them that he's allergic to. It's definitely not the radishes, I can tell you that."

"Well, at that time, I didn't know he was allergic to them," Red said.

"Oh I remember this," Mokey replied, nodding her head. "He got hives all over his body, he got awfully pale, he started sneezing, he couldn't swallow, his tongue swelled up, he said he felt like he couldn't breathe, and he said he felt like he was going to pass out. Actually, I think he _did_ faint on us, didn't he?"

"Yeah, he did," Red said. "Luckily, my mom got him to the doctor immediately. He injected Gobo with something, but I don't know what. They let me and Mokey watch, but they didn't tell us what they were doing. They also had to put this breathing mask on him so he could start breathing normally again. He had to stay at the doctor's cave for three days after that."

"Really?" Lou asked.

"They had to make sure Gobo was going to be all right," Mokey said. "The doctor told us that he could have _died_!"

"Wow," Lou said. "But wouldn't Boober's ointment help Wembley?"

"Not if he ate a bonkleberry," Red said. "Or anything that has bonkleberries in it."

"Yes," Mokey said. "Eating something with even a tiny trace of bonkleberries in it could cause a serious reaction."

"That's a scary thought," Lou said.

"You said it!" Red shouted.

"That's why Boober is always _extra_ careful when he's handling bonkleberries," Mokey said.

"Yeah," Red replied. "Normally, I'd say he's going overboard, but after seeing Gobo have that bad a reaction to a radish bar, I wouldn't want to see a reaction like that again!"

Marlon gulped. He hadn't realized Wembley's bonkleberry allergy was _that_ bad.

"If a tiny trace of bonkleberry could cause Wembley to have a serious reaction if he eats it," he said, "then what would this soup do to him? I _can't_ give it to him now! What was I _think_ ing?! I've got to get rid of it!"

Marlon grabbed the pot and was about to run out of the kitchen with it, when he turned around and found himself face to face with Gobo.

"Hungry, Marlon?" the orange Fraggle asked.

"Umm . . . uhhh, hi, Gobo," Marlon said. "What are you doing here? Oh wait, I know, Boober sent you to get that special drink for Wembley. Well, there it is, right on the counter, in that big pitcher there. Gotta go!"

"Wait a minute, Marlon, wait a minute!" Gobo shouted. "No, Boober sent me to get some soup for Wembley. He doesn't want to give him the drink again until he's had something to eat first. He told me it was in a big pot on the stove, and the only pot I see is the pot you're holding."

"Well, uhhh . . . ." Marlon said, nervously. "Gobo, trust me. Wembley does not need any of _this_ soup!"

"Come on, Marlon," Gobo said, taking the pot from the squinty-eyed Fraggle and putting it back on the stove. "Stop kidding around!"

"Gobo, please!" Marlon begged. "Please _don't_ give Wembley any of that soup!"

Gobo ignored Marlon. He picked up a ladle, and poured some of the soup into a bowl, and then started back to his cave. Marlon began chewing on his fingers nervously.

"What am I going to do?" he asked. "If Gobo gives Wembley that soup, it will be a disaster! And it will be all my fault! I've got to stop him!"

And with that, Marlon raced out of Boober's kitchen. He just had to catch up with Gobo before he could give Wembley the bonkleberry-laced soup.

* * *

 _AUTHOR'S NOTE: The song in this chapter is from the "Fraggle Rock" episode, "Blanket of Snow, Blanket of Woe."_


	7. Just in Time

Marlon ran as fast as he could. He managed to catch up with Gobo just outside of Gobo and Wembley's cave. Quickly, Marlon zoomed ahead, and blocked the entrance.

"What the . . . ." Gobo said. "Marlon, what in the Rock are you doing?!"

"I can't let you go in there, Gobo!" Marlon shouted.

"Don't be ridiculous!" Gobo shouted. "You know Wembley hasn't eaten anything since the accident! Do you want him to starve to death or something?"

"No, of course not! But he just _can't_ have that soup!"

"Marlon, you're being ridiculous! Get out of my way!"

"No, Gobo! I am not going to let you feed this to Wembley!"

Gobo tried to go around Marlon, but every time he moved, Marlon blocked him off. Gobo was beginning to get frustrated. Finally, he had an idea. He started to go in one direction, and Marlon followed in the same direction, but Gobo had faked him out, and slipped past him.

"Oh no," Marlon groaned. "There's only one thing left to do now. CHAAAARRRRGE!"

Marlon made a flying leap, and tackled Gobo to the ground. Gobo was so startled, he let go of the soup bowl, and it went flying. It hit the floor, broke into pieces, and soup splattered all over the floor.

"Oh no, look at this mess!" Boober shouted. "Honestly, Gobo, you don't serve soup like a football!"

" _Mar_ lon!" Gobo shouted, angrily. "What did you go and do that for?! Have you lost what's left of your mind?! Why, I oughta belt you to the moon and back! What are you trying to do?!"

Before Marlon could say anything, he, Gobo, and Boober heard something.

"Bonk!" Wembley shouted, quite involuntarily. "Bonk! Bonk! Bonk! Bonk!"

"What the . . . ." Gobo said.

Boober walked over to the spilled soup, and sniffed it. He had the best nose in all of Fraggle Rock, and he could identify every ingredient in every dish, even if he hadn't seen what had gone into it.

"Oh no!" he gasped. "This soup is _loaded_ with bonkleberries!"

" _Bonk_ leberries?!" Gobo shouted, completely shocked. "Oh no, I could have killed Wembley if I had given him that soup!"

"Hey, what's going on in here?" Red asked, as she and Mokey ran inside the cave.

"Someone put bonkleberries in my radish soup," Boober said, as he began cleaning up the spillage. "One sip, and Wembley would have been done for! Good thing Gobo spilled it!"

"I didn't really spill it," Gobo said. "Marlon tackled me, and I dropped it. And he kept trying to stop me from giving Wembley the soup."

"Wait a minute," Boober said. "How would he know to stop you? Unless he knew the bonkleberries were in the soup. But how could have he known?"

"Well, he _was_ in the kitchen when I got there," Gobo said.

"Uhhh . . . ." Marlon said, nervously.

"What did you do _this_ time, Marlon?" Red asked, sounding a little exasperated.

"Okay, okay, I admit it," Marlon said. "I was the one who put the bonkleberries into the soup."

"Oh _Mar_ lon!" Mokey groaned. "Why would you do something stupid like that?!"

"Because I was mad at Gobo," Marlon said. "I wanted to make everyone mad at him so they would stop being mad at me. I knew Wembley was allergic to bonkleberries so I put them in Boober's soup. I figured if everyone knew Gobo gave Wembley something that had bonkleberries in it, they would get really mad at him, and they wouldn't care when he told everyone that he didn't know there _were_ bonkleberries in the soup, and that it was just an accident. Then I heard Red and Mokey and Lou talking about what would happen if Wembley ate a bonkleberry. When I found out that it might kill him, I changed my mind. I was on my way to dump out the soup away from the Rock so Wembley wouldn't be affected by the fumes when Gobo came in."

"Boy, and I thought you couldn't even _get_ any lower, Marlon!" Red shouted. "What were you _think_ ing?!"

"I wasn't," Marlon said.

"I'll say!" Gobo shouted. "I don't believe you, Marlon! I really just don't believe you would go and intentionally hurt a Fraggle like that just to get some petty revenge!"

"I know," Marlon said. "That's why I changed my mind about going through with it. I'm sorry, Gobo."

"Don't apologize to me!" Gobo shouted. "Go apologize to Wembley! After all, _he_ was the one who would have been affected by you messing around with that soup!"

Marlon nodded. By that time, Boober had finished cleaning up the soup. Wembley had stopped bonking, but he was still groaning in pain. That bonkleberry attack did not help his broken bones any.

"Hi, Marlon," Wembley said. "What's up?"

"Little Wembley, I'm _really_ sorry for everything," Marlon said. "I'm sorry I put bonkleberries in your soup, and I'm sorry I loosened the wheel on your car during the Fraggle Five Hundred. I didn't mean for you to get hurt, and I _really_ didn't want you, or anyone else to get hurt. Please forgive me."

"Well, I'll forgive you, Marlon," Wembley said. "But I can't say it's okay, because what you did wasn't right. Cheating is the worst thing you can do in a game or a race!"

"I know," Marlon said. "I'm sorry. I really and truly _am_ sorry."

"I guess I should apologize, too," Gobo said. "I'm sorry, Marlon. I should have let you apologize to Wembley in the first place. Then you wouldn't have felt the need to put those bonkleberries in the soup."

"It's okay, Gobo," Marlon said. "Truthfully, I don't think I would have forgiven me either, if I were you."

"Then we're all agreed that Marlon should be forgiven?" Mokey asked.

"Yeah, I guess so," Red said. "Even though I still think he's a creep."

"Yeah, but you've _always_ thought that about Marlon, Red," Wembley pointed out. "Matter of fact, I think the whole Rock thinks that! No offense, Marlon."

"None taken," Marlon said.

"Okay, Marlon," Red said. "In light of the fact that you didn't go through with giving Wembley that soup, I forgive you for everything."

"Does this mean we can kiss and make up?" Marlon asked, cuddling up next to Red. In response, Red shoved him away from her as hard as she could.

"Ick! Don't press your luck!" she shouted, making a face.

"Oh well," Marlon said, shrugging. "I tried. Anyway, I promise, I will never do anything like this again, for as long as I live!"

And with that, Marlon ran off. The Fraggle Five just looked at each other.

"You guys _really_ think he's gonna keep that promise?" Red asked.

"Knowing Marlon, probably not," Gobo said. "But at least he's learned something from all this."

"I think we've all learned something from this," Mokey said.

"Yeah," Boober said. "Such as never letting Marlon Fraggle into my kitchen ever again!"

Red, Mokey, and Boober left the cave and went to the kitchen so Boober could throw out the soup, scrub the pot, and make a new batch. Gobo walked over to his bed, and sat down next to Wembley, as gently as he possibly could so he wouldn't aggravate Wembley's broken bones.

"This has been some Fraggle Five Hundred this year, hasn't it?" he asked.

"You said it, Gobo," Wembley said with a sigh. "You were right about one thing, though."

"What's that?"

"I definitely won't forget my first Fraggle Five Hundred, that's for sure!"

The End

* * *

 _AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry for the rushed ending. I couldn't think of how I was going to end it._


End file.
